Burrowed
by ALC1
Summary: The Doctor and Rose visit Lestlin to view the sites, but the Doctor is called away. Left behind, Rose wants to help in any way she can, but things don't always go according to plan. When the Doctor returns, Rose has fallen ill. Can he help her before it's too late? 9/Rose, Hurt/Comfort/Romance Reviews are always appreciated! Thank you!
1. A Planet Called Lestlin

A/N: Hello everyone! I've been working on this little story for about a week and am finally getting around to posting it up on here. It's been a bit of a slow writing season. The plot bunnies are not as plentiful as I would like. At any rate, I do hope you enjoy this little 3 chapter story featuring the 9th Doctor and Rose.

Chapter 1

The Doctor walked confidently back into the village along with the group of men from Intrez. The townspeople crept from their homes cautiously, unsure what news the officials would be bringing back. A general cheer went up when the appointed elder held up the new peace treaty with a large smile. There would be no war with the neighboring village.

They'd landed three days earlier, the Doctor intent on showing Rose the interesting geographical features of Lestlin. The cave systems were spectacular, the mountain vistas majestic, and the beaches on Moninestra would be the highlight. A natural mixture of algae in the water combined with trace elements in the beaches and surrounding rock cliffs made the sea water a bit thick. Swimming there was rather like lounging in partially set jelly. He wasn't sure whether Rose would love or hate the sensation, but knew she needed to try it, just the same.

Of course, they'd only taken a few steps from the TARDIS when the sound of men shouting at each other had stopped the Doctor dead in his tracks. They wandered over to the ruckus, uncertain what they would find. The elders of the village were trying to figure the best course of action against the closest village- a lively argument had ensued. The next few hours were spent learning about the culture of the Intrez village and why they were fighting with the neighboring Ritshome people.

After a bit of talking, the Doctor left with the elders of Intrez, set on finding a peaceful way through their troubles.

After speaking with both parties, it wasn't hard to get to the heart of the matter- it boiled down to fear on both sides. The Intrez were worried the Ritshome were over-farming the shared land, stockpiling rations and holding back any excess from their citizens because the Ritshome were planning to invade and overtake the smaller village.

The Ritshome, on the other hand, were suspicious of the opposing village- after all, it was only logical that their village, with an ample supply house, keep the extra food for both villages. Why should the Intrez question this, unless they planned to revolt against the larger settlement and claim both towns as their own?

Within hours, the Doctor had everything smoothed out between both sides. The Intrez and Ritshome elders were equally relieved that the tension which had hung so thick between the neighbouring villages had been dissolved. In only a few short hours, a new peace treaty was drawn up, and a two-day celebratory feast ensued.

~OOoOO~

Rose stayed behind- not by choice, but because only men were permitted at official meetings. The Doctor had given her a smile and a wink and she'd grudgingly smiled back, knowing she'd be stranded for however long it took them to sort out the mess.

In the meantime, she'd found the local people charming and friendly- the hostility shown to the neighboring village was only out of fear. The residents themselves were kind.

Moments after the Doctor left, she began chatting with a lonely widow, who invited her to share a meal in her home. After following the sweet elderly woman to a tiny dwelling made of clay bricks, Rose helped her prepare the food. She ate a lovely array of sautéed vegetables with a dark brown sauce that was tangy and savoury. After eating, Rose insisted helping with the clean-up, encouraging the elderly woman lie down on her cot for an afternoon nap. With the clay plates and cups washed and put away, she excused herself while her new friend slept.

Rose wandered back out into the settlement, looking for a way to help. Most of these people seemed very poor- everything they used from cooking tools to water delivery, was crude. Their homes were made from dried blocks of clay and mud, the buildings long and low. Many homes seemed to have raised flooring. A few, such as the widow's home, had tightly woven mats made of grass and straw which functioned as a floor covering similar to stiff, scratchy carpet.

The village was small, with a single trail that went in and out of town. There were no roads Rose could see- the locals walked if they needed to travel anywhere. The Doctor hadn't mentioned any dangers before he'd left, so she felt free to explore the new surroundings. She meandered through the little village, hoping to interact with the local population, and perhaps, lend a hand.

Eventually, she found her way to a small and very rustic medical facility. The building was low and sprawling, much larger than any of the other structures, but in poor repair. Clay bricks were crumbling in the walls and the roof sunk low in more than one place. She cautiously entered, unsure what she would find.

A woman sat at a small table, grinding a bitter mix of herbs with a mortar and pestle. Intent on her task, she did not notice Rose when she entered.

"Um…hello?" she asked, uncertain.

The woman, clearly startled, jumped up from her seat and offered up an apologetic smile. "Forgive me- I didn't hear you come in, young one. What is your need?"

"Oh. Um, I didn't…that is, I don't have a need- I just wanted to know if I could help. Maybe visit with folks? Change bandages? 'M not a professional or anything, but 'm happy to help with anything."

The older woman tilted her head slightly, as if trying to understand why Rose would be offering to help. After a moment she excused herself, stating, "It is best that I get the healer."

The healer was procured from one of the patient rooms and Rose repeated herself, stating she only wanted to help if she could. It took a bit of piecing together, but she finally understood that no one interfered with the work of the healer. Even the assistant was only there to grind the herbs and provide support to him. Rose assured the healer she would not get in his way, only wanting to help the patients. In the end she was permitted to stay as long as she would not interfere with their treatments.

.

Rose licked her lips and tied on the soft gray apron that the assistant had given her. Twelve clay rooms which held a variety of illnesses were laid out before her. Oddly, she noticed none of the rooms had either woven grass mats or the more expensive wooden flooring she'd seen in each home. Perhaps the hospital was too poor to afford them, she reasoned. Indeed, entire sections of the roof drooped precariously in some of the rooms. Still, the place was relatively clean; the front desk had been, at any rate. Hopefully the structure was sound enough. She straightened her apron and set out, unsure what she would encounter.

After a few hours, it was blatantly clear that this wasn't a true hospital in a sense, for a hospital would have Doctors and nurses and medicine. This place had none of that. She picked up a cup made from clay and walked out to get a bit of cool water to drink. Rose closed her eyes, wishing the Doctor was here. He would know what to do.

It was upsetting to see how the sick and dying suffered. Medical knowledge was scant and other than roots and herbs, no medicine was available. She made a mental note to ask the Doctor if they could help- if not giving them medicine, at least pointing them in the right direction. These people didn't even have pain relievers or fever reducers. Surely the Doctor could sort that.

Rose set her cup down and reentered the building, wandering in and out of the different spaces, trying to comfort those who were conscious and take care of those who were not. After a time, she came to an exceptionally small room. She peeked in, and her heart sank, for the room housed two children. Deciding then and there that she wouldn't leave their sides, Rose focused her attention on these frail little flowers, both trying so very hard to overcome sickness. She tended them lovingly, trying her best to offer support and reassurance. They burned with fever and cried as she tried to comfort them, swabbing their foreheads with damp wet cloths and speaking softly.

The healer came in once, giving a spoonful of the bitter herbs to each child. "They'll sleep now," he assured her.

"What's wrong with them?" she asked.

The healer shrugged his shoulders. "I give them this to help make their recovery more bearable."

"They'll recover, then?" she said, sceptically.

He nodded. "Of course. Children become ill, but they almost always recover. They are strong."

She looked dubiously at the boy and girl on their rickety cots, but didn't say anything to the healer. _The Doctor will come back_ , she told herself. _He will fix this._

The sun slowly sank in the sky and the moon rose, bright and shining, its dim glow casting ghostly shadows on the mud walls. Rose remained in the children's room, watching them sleep. Despite the sun going down, the building was stuffy and warm. She found herself removing her hoodie, thankful for the short sleeve cotton blouse she'd put on this morning. Tired and ready to rest, Rose curled up on the earthen floor and lay down to sleep, her hand reaching up to stroke the arm of the five year old girl who lay on her cot. She drifted off, the long day finally catching up to her.

She awoke to a startled gasp, and then a short wail.

"What- what are you doing?" the assistant asked, visibly shocked.

Rose stretched and turned around. "Sorry- was I not allowed to stay here?"

She stared, mouth agape before raising her hands to her face. "How long were you down there?"

She shook her head, trying to rid the cobwebs that lingered. "What?"

"Get up, get up!" she exclaimed, motioning for Rose to stand. "The filaria! Didn't you know?"


	2. Dealing With Filaria

Chapter 2

~OOoOO~

The Doctor strode back into town, quite content indeed with how the situation had been remedied. As he rounded the last corner to the village, the small, low houses came into view, ending the three day journey.

Raising a hand to his eyes, he scanned for Rose, expecting her to be very pleased that he had returned; or perhaps angry that he'd taken so long. It could go either way, but he'd missed his companion and would be happy to see her no matter what reaction she'd be prone to showing him.

After the crowds thinned a bit, the happy residents returning to their humble dwellings, the Time Lord began asking around for Rose's whereabouts. After making a few inquiries, a small, stooped woman gave him a sad smile and pointed towards the makeshift hospital. He grinned, thanking her. Of course Rose would be helping. That was so like her.

Upon entering the low building, he described Rose, and the woman at the desk nodded, looking sad, but not speaking. He followed her down a narrow hallway, and into a room that looked as though the ceiling might collapse.

Rose was huddled on a small cot, curled into a ball under the blanket that had been draped over her. Her forehead was coated in perspiration and her hands trembled. She stared at the wall, eyes unfocused. Her face contorted briefly and she stilled for a moment before letting out a tiny whimper as a spasm of pain wracked her body.

He sucked in a breath; never had he given thought that she might be unwell. To see her lying in bed, clearly ill, scared him. "Rose?" he asked cautiously.

She flicked her eyes up to him and back down, relief evident in her face. "You're back," she said softly.

The Doctor walked across the room in three strides, his forehead wrinkled with concern. He knelt down next to her, grasping one of her hands. "What brought all this on? You were fine three days ago."

She shuddered. "I-I didn't know."

His lips pursed. "You don't know what brought it on?"

Warm brown eyes flicked up to his as her head shook slightly. "I _didn't_ know."

His blue eyes met hers, a puzzled expression on his face. "What didn't you know?"

"Not to sleep on the ground. No one told me and the children were in the beds. I didn't want to leave them alone. I didn't know."

His throat constricted, realising the severity of the situation. "Filaria? How many?"

She bit her lip. "Six. I think…that's what the healer told me. Can't see what's on my back."

The region was infested with a parasitic worm that burrowed in through the skin of its victim and slowly worked its way through the body until it reached vital organs. The word filaria was similar to the Lestlin term for burrowing, giving the small parasite its name. They tended to only affect those too sick to move and only bothered with people. Animals slept peacefully without intrusion, but the inhabitants had long since known of the danger. The residents of the village took precaution to never sit on the bare ground, even covering the earthen floors with woven mats or boards. Rose hadn't known about the worms, or how unsafe it was to be on the bare floor of the medical building. She'd lain down to sleep without a second thought.

"They didn't wake you? You didn't feel them?" he asked.

She shook her head.

Rose hadn't moved since he'd arrived, which concerned him. Still curled in a ball on the bed, she'd turned her head to talk, till he'd walked around the other side. That bit of information did little to comfort him.

"Did they remove any?" he asked dubiously. Medical knowledge here was scant and the people were primitive in their ministrations.

Rose nodded and flipped the edge of the blanket back, grimacing from the movement. Her actions revealed a large bandage on her outer thigh. The wounds had seeped a bit of blood through the fabric, the crimson stains marring the pure white covering.

"Oh Rose," he whispered. Her jeans had been removed and her thigh was crimson with infection, the marks spreading from under the bandaged area.

"These two were still close enough to the surface that they could-" she shuddered, her voice turning into a whisper, "remove them."

He flinched, knowing she suffered without anesthesia.

She swallowed, and pulled the blanket back, grasping it tightly. Her voice was small. "One of 'em held me down and the healer, he used a knife to cut them out."

"I'm so sorry, Rose." His fingers gently stroked at her brow, mentally recording her temperature of thirty-nine degrees. "I'll need to see."

She closed her eyes and gave the tiniest indication of a nod.

Noticing her shivering, the Doctor slid back just a bit of the blanket, exposing only the injury. He removed the bandages, and closed his eyes, appalled by what he saw. The skin was ragged where the dull instrument had cut into her leg. The wounds were weeping a pinkish tinged fluid and the entire site was red and hot to the touch.

She tensed and hissed as he gingerly pressed two fingers near the site, probing the undamaged skin to be sure the parasites had been completely removed- any bit left in the tissue could result in a more extensive infection. His fingers worked around both wounds, feeling for any lump or bump that shouldn't be.

Rose held her breath and bit her lip. He worked quickly and carefully, skirting around both the ragged cuts, never touching them. Despite the care taken, her leg ached in protest over the examination. After what felt like ages, his hand dropped from her leg, and she at last took a breath and flinched as he reached for the sonic. His face was dark, angry but turned soft once she met his eyes.

"What did they use, a bloody kitchen knife?" He shook his head. "It's infected, but I'm sure you knew that already. I shouldn't have left you here; they've practically butchered your leg." He ran the sonic over the wound and frowned slightly. "How long have you had the fever?"

"Just since last night, I think. He- the healer, I mean- he took the furlario-"

"Filaria," he corrected gently.

"Yeah, filaria. Um…two days ago?" Rose shook her head a bit. "I think. It's all run together." She paused a moment and hesitated before asking, "My leg…can you- can you fix it?"

The Doctor looked up, meeting her eyes. "Course I can. Impressive me, remember? Just have to get to the TARDIS…" he let the sentence trail off and shook his head a bit, refocusing. "Two days ago, you say? Plenty of time for the infection to start- plenty of time for the rest of the filaria to make themselves at home, too. How's the pain level right now?"

She closed her eyes and grimaced. "Not good."

He patted her shoulder. "Right, best check the others. Two on your back?"

She bit her lip. "Yeah. 'S what they thought, anyway."

"Can you turn over?"

She attempted to move, and immediately wished she hadn't. Sharp burning pain radiated from her stomach and leg. "Don't think so," she gasped out.

The Doctor turned his head and frowned slightly. "It's fine, Rose, no need to worry. I'll just come 'round." His boots thumped hollowly on the bare ground as he circled the cot and knelt behind her. "May I?" he asked gently, grasping the hem of her blouse.

Rose nodded her consent and felt a puff of cool air hit her back, causing her to shiver.

The Doctor lifted her shirt, pushing the material up. He found the two small round entry marks on her lower back and studied them carefully. The first seemed ordinary upon first glance, the same as the other. He pressed carefully around the site and frowned as a small drop of orange liquid came from the tiny hole. Scratching his head, the Doctor gave the area a quick pulse from the sonic.

"Did you feel anything?" he asked cautiously.

"No." She turned her head to look up at him. "Should I have?"

"It's alright. I'll get it sorted." He smiled, but it was strained.

Her eyes flicked back to the mattress. Whatever was supposed to happen hadn't- he was worried and it frightened her.

Rose's crestfallen expression had the Doctor berating himself, inwardly. He hadn't meant to worry her. His hand went to her shoulder. "Rose, it's alright. I can sort it, I promise. Let's get a look at the other one."

The second filaria was easily found after a bit of careful searching- it was quite shallow in the skin, only a few centimeters below the surface. He pressed the area gently with two fingers, causing her to suck in a breath and pull away.

"Hurts!" she hissed.

"I'm sorry, love," he said softly. "Wasn't tryin' to hurt you on purpose."

"I know," she whispered.

"The filaria- this one, anyway, it's close. I'm going to try and use the sonic to bring it out." He knelt down, stroking her arm. "I need you to stay still for me, alright?"

She was silent.

His hand again stroked her arm, giving it a warm squeeze. "This is a good thing, honest."

"Okay," she whispered.

"It shouldn't take long, then. Might sting a bit."

The steady hum of the sonic filled the room and instantly she felt the difference. It was as though someone was pushing a needle through her skin, but from the inside. Biting her lip, Rose held still. As uncomfortable as it was, this was easily better than the treatment she'd received only two days ago. She let out a soft whimper, nails digging into her palms, as the parasitic worm ate its way up.

The sonic produced a sound that the filaria did not like, causing it to burrow quickly. Within a matter of a few minutes, it reached the surface and broke through the skin. The Doctor removed it carefully, taking the time only to kill it, before pressing a clean bit of gauze to her back. He had no antiseptic or healing creams, let alone any type of dermal regenerator. Cool water and a bandage would have to do for now.

"Nasty little things, filaria," he said quietly, then raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't have been comfortable for you, that. I'm sorry for it."

Rose raised an eyebrow, the pain now receding. "It was rather mundane compared to what happened the other day," she said softly.

The Doctor nodded. "I'm sorry for that, too."

She shook her head. "'S not your fault. None of it is anyone's fault."

Absently, he pressed against the other entry point. Another orange drop of liquid appeared at the based of the wound.

He walked back around the other side of the bed to face her. "The other one- I don't know why, Rose, but I think it's died. I'll need to remove it."

She flashed him a wary glance. "Oh." Rose huffed, the light puff of air brushing against his cheek. "You won't…" she trailed off before wetting her lips, "you won't cut it out, will you?" She held her breath, afraid of his answer.

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no. It's in too deep and I'd not do that to you without anesthetic unless it were absolutely necessary." He rubbed the back of his neck, the leather jacket creaking as he moved. "It'll be much safer in the TARDIS. Should be able to extract it without cutting you at all."

He pulled a wooden bench from the corner of the room and sat down next to her. "Fever's up a bit," he said conversationally, as though the thought didn't fill him with fear. "Eyes are lookin' a bit glassy, too." He reached for her wrist, taking her pulse and sighed heavily. "How bad are you feelin' Rose?"

She closed her eyes. "Just need to sleep a little. 'M just tired."

It was serious- the infection, the filaria, the whole wretched business. She was very ill- and he had no idea where the parasites had traveled in her abdomen. The thought of examining her right now made him ill. The filaria had had plenty of time to burrow far into the abdominal muscles, making any type of touch or movement painful for her. On the other hand, if they weren't in the muscle tissue, but working towards one or more organs…

 _If they reach her heart…_

She could die; if he did nothing, and decided to forego the examination, it was possible. He swallowed and closed his eyes. He had to be sure; he wouldn't risk her life by failing to evaluate her, even if it temporarily caused her pain.

"You can sleep in just a bit, Rose, but first I'll need to examine your stomach." His hand reached for her cheek, but she tucked her head down, pulling away.

"No." she said quietly. "Not now. It hurts."

His hand was gentle on her arm. "That's why I need to check."

Her jaw was set in a stubborn line. "I can't move."

"You don't have to do anything, love," he said softly. "Now listen, you waited two days for me to return. All that time, the filaria have been eatin little holes through the tissue and muscle. That's why it hurts so much right now. Sooner I do this, the sooner I know what needs to be done and the sooner you won't be in pain anymore. Alright?"

"Just wait a bit," she asked quietly pleading. "Please? 'M not up for it right now."

He rubbed her shoulder, shaking his head sadly. "You know I can't do that, Rose. I know how much you're hurtin' right now, but I need to see where they're at. It's important." He stood up briefly, shucking off his jacket, and took double inventory of his patient, making sure he wouldn't be interfering with her injured leg.

"Now…" he trailed off. "This won't be pleasant, and I'm sorry for it, but it won't take long. You ready?" he asked her, pulling the blanket off.

"No." she said softly.

The Doctor sighed. "I'll be as quick as I can."

She closed her eyes. His hand went to her shoulder and pressed down before he quickly rolled her so she was lying on her back. Not releasing her shoulder from his grip, his knee caught hers and pushed it down so she was lying with her left leg stretched out. Her body tried to double back over and she gasped twice, biting the inside of her cheek. "Stop," she choked out.

He didn't respond, continuing to pin her down as he assessed her stomach. His free hand slid cautiously over her abdomen, inspecting the skin for the telltale sign of the boring worm. As she strained against him, crying out twice, he found what he was searching for- two small marks one above and one just below her navel.

"You're doing well, Rose," he said softly, trying to reassure her. She was shuddering each time he touched her. He felt his hearts constrict knowing he was the one causing the agony. "Try to stay still."

She cried out again, louder this time, as he palpated around her stomach, much of her abdomen rigid from the damage the filaria had caused. Both still seemed to be there, slowly eating their way through the muscle tissue, not headed towards her lungs, liver, or her single, fragile heart. He pulsed the sonic briefly, and his suspicions were confirmed. At the moment, she was not in any great danger- aside from the infection.

He finished the assessment, eyes flicking back to his companion. Her face was pale, jaw clenched tight. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks and she was chewing on her bottom lip. He lifted his knee, freeing hers, and let go of her shoulder, allowing her to roll back into a tight ball. A strangled sob escaped her lips, then another.

"'M sorry, Rose." His hand rested softly on her back.

She gasped, still sobbing, her nails digging into her palms as the pain came in great waves. Visions danced behind her closed eyes as the room spiraled away. She was nearly leaving, so very close to drifting away when the Doctor's hand moved to her shoulder.

"You need to breathe, Rose."

With that, she suddenly realised she _did_ need to breathe and opened her mouth, sucking in a great lungful of air. The room stopped spiraling away but the fiery burning ache still remained.

"That's it. Deep breaths," he encouraged, talking quietly. "In and out…good girl." He stroked her arm, talking softly, steadying her nerves as the pain slowly abated. The Doctor picked up the blanket and spread it over her, tucking it around her small frame.

She cried softly as he spoke to her gently, in soothing tones, as though she were a child. She felt so wretched. Her leg prickled with fiery heat, her back throbbed where the dead filaria lay rotting, and her abdomen was still screaming with protest from the exam. He pushed a cup of water to her lips and she gratefully took a swallow, then another.

He wet his lips with his tongue, and leaned back. "Rose?"

She looked up and acknowledged him with a slight nod.

His thumb stroked her hand. "You need surgery. I can do it in the TARDIS, but you're in no shape to go anywhere, least of all a mile walk through the woods. There's good news, though- you're hurting so much because they're staying within the muscles of the abdomen. It's good because it means they aren't headed for any organs right now. Just rest here and I'll be back as quick as I can be."

Rose pushed out her hand and grasped the Doctor's. "Don't leave."

"There now," he said softly, "I'll be back soon." Her fever was higher, likely from the strain of what he'd put her through. "Then this'll all be over and you'll be feelin' like your old self again."


	3. The Beaches of Moninestra

Chapter 3

He walked purposefully towards the TARDIS, hurrying to get back to the ship so he could see to Rose. The residents of Intrez wanted to help, offering to sit with Rose or to try their own home remedies for ridding her of the dreaded filaria. He refused politely, trying his best to explain he was taking her home to her mother. It wasn't exactly true, but it would have to do.

They were quiet, knowing her fate. Feeling guilty, he remained silent- it wasn't as though he could explain what he planned to do in the TARDIS. There wasn't time and he wondered if they'd be able to fathom such advanced medicine in the first place. After a hurried goodbye, the healer promised he'd see to it that Rose was not disturbed until the Doctor returned for her.

Upon reaching the clearing where the TARDIS was parked, his pace quickened, wanting to return instantly to Rose. The key turned easily in the worn lock and he was again back to the familiar hum of his ship. He set the controls with the utmost of care, wanting to arrive only a few minutes after he left, pleading with the TARDIS to land, this one time, exactly where he needed her to.

She didn't disappoint. The ship wheezed and groaned and he walked around the console, making certain that nothing had been flipped by mistake; he needed to reach Rose. A moment later the Doctor was opening the door, relieved to find himself just outside of the hospital building.

The Doctor marched into the clinic, nodding to the healer.

"You returned quickly. She has not been disturbed, as you asked."

He gave a curt nod of thanks, quickly moving down the hallway to her room.

Rose was half asleep and half delirious as he carried her out of the low building. Her temperature was nearly 40 degrees, her skin hot to the touch.

"I'm not ready to go yet," she mumbled. "'S Jimmy again, isn't it?"

"We're almost to the TARDIS, Rose. Rest right now."

Her eyes opened and she blinked, her expression confused. "Are you moving me back with him? I-I don't want to go there. Don't make me." Her face twisted. "It hurts."

"Rest," he repeated. "Just rest."

The ship was only a few steps outside the medical center but he covered the short distance slowly, not wanting to jostle or jar her. The door swung open as he approached and he sent his ship a heartfelt "thank you" for her help.

Rose was deposited on an exam couch in the med-bay. She instantly turned to her side and again curled up in a ball, her hands wrapped round her knees. He stepped away and quickly prepared a hypo with strong antibiotics, a sedative, and pain reliever.

"There now," he said softly, pressing the hypo to her neck. "You'll be well again very soon."

She was vaguely aware that someone was talking to her, but she couldn't muster up the energy to answer. She was hot- like the desert, she mused, hot and dry and parched; except the desert didn't feel pain. Or did it? Was that why the desert was hot, because of the pain? Something wonderfully cool pressed against her neck as the man talked. Rose opened her eyes, thankful for the chilly sensation. There was a quiet sound, a gentle whooshing and a moment of discomfort, but then it was gone before it even started. Within minutes, the pain; the terrible, unstoppable agony that defined her being, had started to abate. She was tired, so very tired, and sleep was beckoning. With a sigh, Rose closed her eyes, the sedative doing its job.

~OOoOO~

The gentle hum of the TARDIS woke her. She blinked against the lights in the med bay, letting out a soft sigh. Rose ran her fingers through her hair, and coughed lightly.

The Doctor was suddenly there, a cup in his hand. "Don't try to sit up yet," he cautioned. "Here, have a little of this."

She took a small sip of water, then another, smiling. "It doesn't hurt," she said, surprised. "Nothing hurts. How did you…"

"Course not," he grinned. "Fixed you up just like I said I would."

"How'd you fix me? How long have I been here," Rose asked, feeling confused.

The smile faded as he sat down next to her on the bed. "The filaria had to be removed surgically. That took some time, but it seemed like small potatoes after I patched your leg up. Thought you might break my dermal regenerator, needin' so much healing."

"You were afraid," she said cautiously.

The Doctor laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. "Yeah… Yeah, I was, Rose." He took a deep breath. "But, that's all over and done with now and you should be feelin' like yourself in a few short bit."

"I'm sorry."

His eyebrows raised. "Not your fault, Rose Tyler. Even if you are the most jeopardy-friendly human I've ever traveled with. Now," he said, letting go of her hand, "how about something to eat?"

"Sounds lovely," she replied, smiling.

~OOoOO~

He would never tell her how extensive the infection had been. After only two days, it had poisoned her blood; she'd been septic when he brought her onto the ship. Afraid it was too late, he quickly removed the remaining filaria laparoscopically, trying to set her body to rights. The sepsis was affecting the parasites in her body, as well. Both filaria were close to death when he removed them. After hurriedly finding and then removing the dead worm embedded in her back, he ran the regenerator to begin mending some of the muscle tissue.

Her leg was a mess; the site of it flashed through his mind and angered him. The filaria would have done far less damage than the so-called healer. After the first round of fast-acting antibiotics, he gave her two more doses, directly in the injured right leg. In twenty minutes, he saw a difference. Her breathing wasn't so labored, her pulse had dropped, and the fever started to go down. Two hours later, the worst was over. Her temperature had temporarily spiked, then, mercifully, the fever had broken. Her leg needed extensive work; after the worst of the swelling was down, the Doctor had surgically removed the dead tissue, and finally ran the dermal regenerator over her thigh at least a dozen times. The new skin, pink and sensitive was covered lightly with sterile gauze before he tucked a blanket over her body, allowing her to get the rest she so desperately needed.

Again, his mind raced at how close he'd come to losing her. Her bright little flame, so plucky and tenacious had nearly been snuffed out- except it hadn't. She was wonderful and warm and very much alive. He could breathe a sigh of relief, at last, knowing that Rose was safe.

~OOoOO~

It took him a week to let her move about freely. The skin on her leg was finally looking normal, not bright pink, and she no longer had a slight limp when she walked. He didn't want her running for her life, not at the moment, and so, instead, he took her where he'd originally intended.

"The beach?" she asked dubiously. "Doctor, you hate like places like that."

Flipping a switch on the TARDIS, the Doctor flashed his manic grin. "This beach is a little different, Rose. Up for something like that?"

Her smile lit up the room. "Course I am!" she said impishly, tongue poking between her teeth.

He nodded. "Fantastic."

It was hard to believe that only a few days before, she'd been fighting for her life. He watched her clamber out of the TARDIS, excited to see why this place was so special, why he'd picked it. It had taken Rose only a few moments to walk out onto the sand, drop her towel and magazine on the ground, and look around self-consciously before shedding her cover-up, revealing a modest pink and yellow bikini.

She avoided making eye contact with him, feeling rather naked. He'd only seen her in jeans and hoodies or t-shirts and she felt a bit awkward. Of course, she reasoned, he'd performed surgery on her only days before, so it wasn't entirely true, but…she felt shy nonetheless.

"Step in the sea," he smiled, encouraging her. "Let's see what you think."

She looked up at him and then towards the water, a large smile forming on her face. Shyness forgotten, she bounded off to the edge of the beach, stepping in ankle deep.

Her reaction to Moninestra delighted him. Rose's mouth had formed a perfect O as she stepped into the warm, jelly-like water. She laughed, throwing her head back, and as the sun cascaded down her hair, he was sure he'd never witnessed anything quite so lovely. He sat in the sand and watched her happily play in the peaceful water most of the morning. When she finally emerged from the sea, he handed her a towel, which she wrapped demurely around her body, tucking in the edge so it would stay in place.

"'S amazin'. How? …I mean, why is the water like that here? Where are we, anyway? I didn't even think to ask." She smiled.

"Still on Lestlin. This is one of the places I wanted to take you."

Her eyes widened and she stood up quickly. "Why didn't you tell me? I just sat down! Don't sit there, the filaria'll find you. Get up!"

He shook his head, grabbing her wrist. "No, Rose, no. No filaria here. Promise. It's perfectly safe."

"Oh," she said softly in a very small voice. Her face blushed pink as she joined him again on the sand.

"Should've known you wouldn't let anything like that happen again…" she trailed off.

He studied her briefly, watching a fat water droplet work its way down her collarbone and slip gracefully, gently down towards her right breast, the tiny bead of moisture absorbed by the towel wrapped around her. She had bits of sand stuck to her arms, the small golden brown flecks dusting her pale skin. "No, love," he said softly, "I'd never willingly let anything happen like that again."

He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and Rose found herself blushing from the intimacy of the moment. She rested her head on his shoulder and slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. They sat silently, listening to the water and the wind, grateful for each other's company as the sun shone down, bright and cheerful.

The day passed by quietly. Neither Rose nor the Doctor could put their finger on when it had happened, but somehow their relationship had changed, ever so slightly. She'd held his hand countless times before, but today it felt different. It felt intoxicating, having him so close to her. She didn't want the day to end, but eventually it did, the sun dipping low in the sky.

Rose shivered a bit and he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders as the sun sank in the distance. The spectacular colours of orange, red, and yellow faded to pinks and purples until only a dim glow on the horizon was left. His hand brushed her cheek and suddenly, unexpectedly, he was kissing her.

Her lips were soft and full, her mouth pliable and willing. He cupped her cheek in his hand tenderly, his fingers entangled in her hair. It only lasted a few moments, before he pulled away, breaking the kiss.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose?"

She bit her lip. "Thank you. It was lovely."

He chuckled. "Never had a woman thank me for a simple kiss before."

"You feel it, too, then? Something's different?"

He picked up her hand and kissed it. "Yes, Rose. Something's different."

Rose grinned. "'M glad."

He brushed a piece of hair away from her face, again cupping her cheek with his hand. "Me too, love. Me too."

The End


End file.
